Monochrome Dreamers
by terracannon876
Summary: Miku was a little girl who, one sad day, met a dream-eating spirit who chased the nightmares away. From that day on, she dreamed of seeing him again. When she does, he extends his services again. Based off Nem's song of similar title.
1. Chapter 1

Oh boy, this story was such a long time coming... It was originally meant to be 2011's Halloween fic, but ... as you can see, I definitely did not finish by that time.

This story is a 3-shot. However, the first two parts can be read independent of the third part, so they're going up first.

Aside from experimenting with the format of this fic, I'm also experimenting with the writing style. Fairy tale fun.

This is based off the Vocaloid song "The Black-White Dream-Eating Spirit" by Nem, sung by Len (Append). I loved it the moment I heard it and it set off a crazy plot bunny that ate my mind for hours on end.

This story's theme ... "Which is happier? Drowning in indulgence or settling for a compromise." ...or something like that. You'll see what I mean once part 3 is up.

I have nothing against Miku, personally. I swear.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

**The Dream-Eater**

Once upon a time, in another country, maybe in another world, there was a city.

This city with its soap-carved buildings and alabaster streets lived in the constant fog of night. The street lamps and the shine from the windows were timekeepers, following the daily waxing and waning of the moon. It was a constant cycle, a constant amongst the many other constants in this never-changing city with its perpetual darkness.

In this city lived a girl, a girl with the most beautiful sea green hair, rich and soft as the foam of the sea. She loved running her hand through it, and her mother loved it too, always tying the locks into two flowing pigtails.

Yes, Miku was a happy girl.

She loved it when her mom took her out for walks, hand in hand, and sometimes she could carry the shopping bags back with her because she was a big girl.

She loved sitting on her father's lap as he read the difficult, nasty words on the picture-less newspaper under the glow of the kitchen light.

Out of all the wonderful things she had, though, she loved the bedtime stories the best.

Sometimes it would be her father by her side, hunched into a small chair half his size as he wove tales from thin air. Sometimes it would be her mother, reading and gesturing dramatically as she peered at a thick tome.

Oh, how she did love those stories, and even after the lamp on her dresser was clicked off and a goodnight kiss was placed on her brow, the adventures continued. She dreamed of faraway lands and of princes and princesses. She dreamed of unicorns and dragons and fantastical creatures she could not even name. But most of all, she dreamed of love, because it was always love that pulled the heroes through the big battle and drove him to save the ladies.

She wished that she could know such all-consuming love just once in her life.

But nothing was eternal. The happiness was not to last. The house was one day filled with crashes and shouts that never stopped since. Miku, older but still very much a little girl, could only hide under her bedcovers until all was over and quiet.

Even then, the clamor and racket followed her into her dreams. No longer were they filled with fantastical journeys culminating in a glorious and wonderful end for all involved, of heroic deeds and happy endings. No longer did she dream of stars showering down in a gentle drizzle from the night sky and catching them in her cupped hands.

They were instead invaded by witches and ogres and dragons, wreaking destruction and razing the land as far as the eye could see. Horror and heat and danger. It saddened her to see her world, the one place she could be protected from the harsh realities of her waking hours, brought to ashes, but still she preferred them to hearing alternating screams and silences.

She wished to dream, and so she always went to bed as early as possible every night with the unwavering hope that that night, things would change.

Night after night, nothing did.

And then, one day, the spirit came.

He came from the sky, descending upon invisible steps spiraling down an invisible staircase. Miku had just woken from yet another nightmare, but she wasn't so sure upon seeing the boy that she wasn't still dreaming.

Clad in a prim felt hat and a smart-fitting suit, the spirit was a far cry from all the knights in shining armor that had become all but powerless wraiths in her dreamscape long ago. He looked like a normal boy walking on air, but he had ears that were long and pointed, folded over like a sheep's.

Tucking his cane beneath the crook of his elbow, the spirit stopped before the startled girl and, taking her hand, knelt before her like a warrior of old. Eye-level, she saw that his eyes were a bottomless blue, and the emptiness scared her.

But she was fascinated, curious, and in dire need of a friend, for she had none so even a supernatural one was welcome, and he had such a firm grip on her hand that she felt it rude to pull away.

His smile was inviting and kind, and he cocked his head just so as he said "Little girl, what are you doing up so late at night?" He spoke in a voice that was neither high nor low, but with a tone that rolled like soothing waves and unobtrusive as the night breeze. "Such a pretty lady shouldn't be staying up, mind wracked with troubles, especially for one so young."

He spoke like a gentleman, and he sounded ever so courteous that she relaxed and her voice broke free of her throat. "Wh-who are you?" she questioned in a tiny mouse whisper.

The spirit stood, took a step back and bowed, hat held to chest. "I am a dream-eater, spirit of the night, at your service." The dream spirit, who looked to be caught between the years of boyhood and adulthood, lowered his head again with a gentle smile, his golden bangs curtaining his eyes.

"S-service?" She didn't know why she would need the help of a dream-eater. She had heard of them in ghost stories long ago and they were always evil tricksters. But this one looked nice. He didn't look evil at all.

"Dreams are my sustenance, and children's dreams most of all." Seeing her horrified expression, the spirit chuckled. "You have been having a nightmare, isn't that right, little one? Would you like me to cast a spell to make it all go away?"

Something clicked in Miku's mind and all her fears dispelled with a single-minded thought. "You'll make them all go away?" she exclaimed elatedly.

He chuckled again. "That's right, dear." He patted her on the head and for an instant, she remembered when her father used to do the same thing. A gesture of love. "Yes, I can't take dreams without your permission. That would be rude and boorish – but all children are always willing to give up their nightmares. Would you like to be rid of yours?"

"So they'll go away? All the nightmares will disappear and I'll dream good dreams again?"

"Yes, you can count on my service. I shall gobble them all and leave nary a single one behind," and at this, he rubbed his belly. It was such a silly gesture that Miku couldn't help but giggle. "Ah, there's the treasured smile from the little princess. So, what do you say?"

Miku frowned in thought. She still remembered the words of warning from the haunting tales, the ones of girls who never woke up and boys who wandered through life with lifeless eyes, but she really despised those awful frightful nightmares. They were nothing but, and this magical being before her would make it all go away. "They'll really be gone," she repeated, "and you won't touch the good dreams?"

"Yes to both, dear."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Pinky promise?" She stuck her tiny hand out, pinky extended.

The spirit didn't laugh or make fun of her like those boys at school did when she had said this to them. Instead, he responded in kind and extended his own gloved hand. "Pinky promise."

They shook on it. No one besides her mom and dad had ever taken her so seriously before. She yawned. It was long past her bedtime and her eyelids were growing heavier by the second. Seeing this, the spirit entered her room, gracefully hopping over the windowsill, and took her by her hand and led her to bed. He tucked her in. "Don't you worry," she heard him say as she sunk back into her pillow and into the cushion of deeper sleep. "Dream good dreams and have a good night, little princess."

And that was exactly what she did, for she did not meet a single monster or nasty beast with dripping fans, and she dreamed of things she thought had long since abandoned her.

When she woke, she found herself humming happily before her consciousness had even fully returned, and, skipping downstairs, she even managed to greet both her mother and father with a smile and a good morning.

So shocked were they that they even stopped arguing.

The day breezed by, for she could not wait for night to roll by again. That night, she waited for the dream-eater to return so she could thank him for the best night of her life. He'd kept his promise, from start to finish, and it was nice because no one had done that for her for a long time, but he never came. She sat by the window and thought of him and his charming features long past her bedtime, but the cuckoo clock in the kitchen downstairs chimed midnight and still he did not come.

She stayed up the night after that, and the night after that, but never again did she lay eyes on the elusive spirit.

Still, she never abandoned hope, because if there was one thing she was good at, it was dreaming for the unattainable.


	2. Chapter 2  Black

Ah, indulgence. We all love it.

I admit, I may have gone a bit overboard with the sap in this chapter. I'm still rather happy with it, though.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

**Black**

Time passed. Night was still the constant, and light and darkness still alternated at a steady rhythm.

Everything was still the same.

Nothing had changed.

But time always passes, and everything changes no matter the wishes of those living within the never-stemming flow, because before she knew it, Miku was all grown up.

Her hair reached her ankles, but she kept it pinned up in the two pigtails her mother had loved to tie in the past. She was taller, slender as a willow, and her mystical beauty turned many heads, so much so that men would come from far and wide across the building just to catch a glimpse of her in her cubicle. Her coworkers were all jealous, but when she heard tell of such rumors, she only smiled and left for home without another word.

She lived alone. It had been a long time since her parents had divorced. She had received condolences from her so-called school friends and her teachers who pretended not to notice her outside of class, but even she, little as she was, was glad for them because that way they both talked to her again without a glare or angry words hanging off their lips. They were apart, but the happier for it.

Now, adult and independent and off to start a family of her own, she returned to a cold and empty house devoid of any warmth every time she opened the door. There was no one to turn the lights on for her, to greet her with a kiss to each cheek and say "welcome back." The only shoes at the entrance were hers, and the only person inhabiting the carapace of a home was her.

Yet she always returned as soon as her job allowed her to because she was still waiting. Ten years, fifteen years, and she was still waiting for the person she saw only once in her dreams, waiting for him to descend from the heavens and save her again.

She wanted to thank him.

She wanted to embrace him.

She wanted to clutch his hand and never release it, keep him by her side forever and ever.

Thousands of nights later, there was not a trace of the dream-eater. Not a sign of anyone with the classy hat, the perfect strut to his step, the antiquated cane, the elegance and grace in his every gesture and word. Her skirt-chasers never stood a chance.

But when another five years had passed on top of the previous five, and another five, even Miku, the girl with infinite dreams, began to tire. Depression snagged her steps. Listlessness drove her to aimless wanderings. Never one to make many friends, she began to shun human contact.

Still she waited, and she pined, and still there was no sign.

One day, her peripatetic feet brought her to a bridge and she looked down into the roiling waters and remembered the abyss that was the dream-eater's eyes. She felt herself drawn forward, leaning over the railing further and further.

And further still if it weren't for a police officer who caught her by the shoulders. A stern warning and a suspicious glance, and he departed, returning to his duty.

Her mind did not even register the intervention, so great was the revelation that had just taken place. She did not need to wait for him. She could go to him instead. Of course, what a simple solution to everything, all her troubles, all she ever wanted! If he came from the sky, then all she would have to do was to greet him there.

She, not he, would be the one saying "Welcome back" when she caught him by surprise.

That night, she stayed late past lights-off period and far into the next day as she arranged her affairs. It was only when she opened her eyes again and lifted her head from her desk did she realize she had fallen asleep, but the moon was still bright in the sky. There was no alarm, for she had no work the next day. There was no cause for her to wake.

And yet, she had been jolted awake.

The door was locked, the windows closed. No footsteps echoed through her hollow home save her own, and no breathes rasped through the silence except those caused by her own respiration. But the hairs on the back of her neck stood and a chill spread through her spine from heart to nails.

Then she turned, and she was no longer alone. She screamed and jumped and fell and crawled backwards, but the other moved nary an inch as he stared down at her disgraceful figure.

A hat still covered his head and a cane still rested in one hand. His suit was just the same as she remembered from all those years ago, a yellow waistcoat and a prim little golden bowtie to match. A black tailcoat and gray knee socks. Looking at it now, it was all a bit laughably juvenile, like a child in costume playing adult, but in his own way that was adorable, she thought.

He was taller now, though, and slightly older looking. Time had touched him, albeit almost imperceptibly.

No, it wasn't because of time. Something else about him seemed different.

"Hello there, miss."

She startled and looked up. He had extended his hand, still in the same black glove, before her. His eyes were closed in a nostalgic smile that made her heart clench and she felt tears hovering the brink of her eyes.

She had waited this long, and finally, finally he had appeared. She took his hand and she found that when she stood, they were almost eye-level. "It's nice to see you again," she replied.

This brought a tiny frown to the spirit's face. "I apologize. It seems that you have the upper-hand in this exchange. Have we met before?"

'A long time ago, so long ago you may not remember, but I've waited for you this entire time,' she wanted to say, but instead only the words, "Yes, once," left her mouth. "You took care of my nightmares for me and gave me new dreams."

Dreams of hope and love that she'd clung to for years on end.

His mouth opened in an "Oh" and put his hand to his chin. "Well then, I should amend my greeting. How have you been, miss? It must have been quite a while since I last saw you."

She swallowed her original words and remembered her manners. She nodded and curtsied, "It has. Ever since our last meeting I'd been looking forward to seeing you again."

"Oh? Is that a request I hear hidden within those words?" And then the spirit's lips twisted.

For the first time, Miku felt her heart flutter, and it wasn't because of whatever it was she felt for the boy.

His eyes were closed, and the smile itself was beautiful, but it stretched too wide. It was too eager. When his eyes opened again, they were too dark.

No, Miku shuddered, and for the first time, she was scared.

"I won't refuse a dear lady's request. Be it sweet or horrid, it shall be my utmost pleasure to fulfill it." And then he returned with that special blend of suavity and innocence, so suddenly it unnerved her more than it relieved her.

She gulped. The air refused to enter her lungs, like a bubble had formed in her throat. Was that an illusion? A trick of the shadows and darkness, the paranoia that he may not have truly come gnawing at her mind? "Are you all right?"

She was surprised at her words. So was the dream-eater, judging by his frozen expression. His reply came after a hitch. "Peachy, in fact. Did I say something to worry you?" He tilted his head in question.

It looked so endearing. It must have been her imagination. She shook her head.

There couldn't be anything wrong with him. He was a spirit, the dream-eater, untouched by human woes and troubles.

"All's fine and well. Don't you worry your pretty head, young miss," he reassured as he played with the cane in his hands. His eyes wandered, and Miku watched as the blue focused on some object in the distance. Suddenly, they snapped back to her. "I apologize for the sudden change in topic, but I must know, are you interested in another contract?"

"Another?"

"Well, this can't have been the first time I've been in your dreams. You mentioned a time I had 'taken care of your dreams' just a moment ago. Perhaps you were one of the children whose nightmares I feasted on?"

She nodded.

He clapped his hands together enthusiastically. "Perfect! In return for what must have been a lavish meal, then, I shall grant you a special favor."

She timidly asked what that would consist of.

"Why, you can see any dream you wish! Anything you can dream of, as far as your mind can take you. You called me here, so surely you must have had some desire."

"I called you here?"

"Yes, I heard a voice, and it was so irresistible I had to lay my eyes upon the beautiful maiden who possessed such mesmeric, irresistible tones."

She remembered doing no such thing, but the fact of the matter was the dream-eater was standing right before her. She was in no place to argue and instead pondered the quandary sitting before her. "You wish for nothing in return?"

"Only a paltry trinket that I guarantee you shan't miss." He was the very image of patience, hat held to his breast and eyes warmly creased. "Come now, it's nothing to be wary about. After all, it's the dream of a lifetime. Your grandest imaginations and deepest desires come to life for a night. Why, if my powers worked on myself, I'd have done it in a heartbeat."

She did have a desire, a wish she had held close to her heart ever since that night long ago. It was one she had clung to with the desperation of a dream never to be fulfilled. This, this was a boon, a godsend. It was what she had been waiting for her entire life.

She'd be a fool to pass such an opportunity.

She asked one last time. "What is it you want in return?"

"Is that a yes?"

She took a deep breath and steeled her will. "Yes. Please, I would like to see my dream."

The smile was slow, but second by second, the grin on the dream-eater's face grew and grew until it stretched across his entire face, illuminating his countenance. "It would be my pleasure. Shall we seal the contract, then?"

"How?"

"With a kiss, of course."

Before she could react, the spirit's gloved hand had cupped her chin and brought her face to his. Another slipped behind her, bringing her body against his. The cane clattered to the floor. She felt his mouth close over hers.

She did not remember what happened afterwards.

She did know that that night, she saw the most wonderful dream. It was a scene only possible in the long past and therefore could not be true. Her mother sat to one side of the table and served her her plate of deliciously steamed potatoes and meatloaf. Her father sat to the other, flipping nonchalantly through his newspaper while occasionally taking a sip of tea.

And through it all, she found herself in the middle, the center. She was talking, and they listened, intrigued. They were together again, and she felt her eyes well with tears in the dream. Glad as she was, though, something was strange. What a happy instance to dream about!

Yet she was not satisfied. This wasn't her "deepest desire," was it?

Then she looked across the table and all her anxieties were dispelled, instead replaced with shock and pleasure.

There, sitting dignified, elbows off the table and fork in left and knife in right, was the dream-eater spirit, except he had abandoned his three-piece suit and accompanying bowtie and his ears were no longer inhuman. No, he looked like a perfectly normal boy. There was her mother, complimenting her on finding such a nice catch. The boy asked a question to her father, and she watched wide-eyed as her dad actually laid down the paper to answer him. He was the very image of propriety, and Miku felt proud for him, because she had chosen him.

But all dreams must come to an end, and hers, no matter how wonderful and perfect it was and even if it had been incited by the powers of a spirit, did too.

She blinked groggily, eyes bleary with the waxiness of sleep. She rubbed them, but suddenly realized something was wrong. The moon had vanished, which meant that work had already started. She flung herself around to check the alarm clock. An hour late! She was about to swing herself out of bed when she realized she was not alone.

Arms crossed and head down, his raven hat hung over his face, the dream-eater lay hunched in a chair that had come from Miku's kitchen. It was an uncomfortable position, and she could see his lips twist and frown every so often as he muttered something inaudible. Those strange ears were limp, but twitched every now and then as though reacting to nonexistent sounds in the silence.

It was strange to see him under the light. He looked almost corporeal, solid despite the ethereal nature of spirits. She found herself unable to resist reaching forward, removing the hat and hand steadily moving to brush his golden bangs from his long lashes when they fluttered open.

She drew back.

He startled and sat ramrod-straight. Eyes averted and cheeks slightly red, he rambled as he ran his gloved hand nervously through his hair. "Oh, I apologize! I had not meant to stay the entire night. You fainted, and I couldn't just leave a lady alone on the floor like that. It would be all too ungentlemanly of me." As dignified as he could, he retrieved his hat and cane from the side of the bed. "It really is late and I should take my leave. Good day, miss," he said as he bowed.

She blinked and thought this strange. She managed to restrain the spirit before he vanished like the mist.

"Never you worry," he said with a smile though she could see some shadows under his eyes, "I do believe I am quite recovered thanks to that repose."

She was torn. Yesterday had been a little frightening, but in the end the dream-eater had kept his promise, just like he had twenty years ago. After all, wasn't it her fault that he was so exhausted? "That simply won't do. Please, rest some more."

She didn't wait for an answer, flustered as she was at her boldness, and instead threw together an attire semi-appropriate for work and left.

That day, even her coworkers noticed an air of lightness around her. It was as though a burden had been lifted from her shoulders, and her dress almost floated as she flitted down the aisle to enter her cubicle. She completely ignored all the heads turned her way, including a few jaws dropped due to her utterly out of character behavior. Usually known as a quiet, withdrawn individual who more often sulked than spoke, she was extroverted and cheerful, greeting others with a dainty wave and a smile on her face. Some of the girls asked her if she'd met someone.

She said yes because that was the truth.

Hours passed, and finally she was allowed to leave. She stood before the door, steeling her nerves when she noticed something very strange. There was a sliver of light from beneath her doorway. Alarmed that there was a burglar, she hesitated, but opened the door slowly, sliver by sliver.

The scent hit her first, a rich decadent fragment that brought her back to her childhood years. She rushed into the kitchen, tripping over her shoes as she did so, and was greeted by a most unlikely sight.

Ladle in hand, pot in the other, there stood the dream-eater spirit stirring what looked like beef stew, simmering lightly with steam wafting upwards. As she watched, he brought the spoon up and tasted it, smacking his lips a little and murmuring to himself. She backed away, unable to believe the unbelievable scene unfolding before her eyes. From the smell of it, it was just like her mother's old dish, too. In her haste, her feet clattered against her discarded shoes and she fell onto the floor.

His head shot up, and for the first time Miku noticed that the boy had human ears. He must have noticed her staring, because he moved his hand to them, feeling their foreign texture for himself. "Oh, this? I believe it will help me blend into society more, especially if I'm going to be staying with you in the future."

But why was he still here? Why was he cooking for her, and why was it a dish that seems to have come straight from the most treasured corner of her heart?

"You were that little princess from that night, were you not?"

Miku froze under the azure stare.

"Yes, while you were dreaming last night, I remembered. I should have noticed by the distinct shade of your beautiful locks, but it's been quite a while you see. I've visited many a children and collected their nightmares."

"But you remember me?" she asked, not quite successful in restraining the hope from her words.

"Why of course. To be more precise, I remember your dreams. They were amongst the best I've ever had." She must have looked confused because he continued. "The more the dreamer invests himself in the dream, the more substance it has. The more substance it has, the more delicious it is." A blink and a frown. "You should eat first. A day of work, and you are not starving?"

How he had known was beyond her, but her stomach chose that moment to growl. She had not eaten that day, so lofty was her mood. At his request and gracious manners, she was led to sit and she helped herself to a plate. It looked absolutely delicious, and she found herself eating more than she had ever before. Perhaps it was the nostalgic taste, but perhaps it was because he was there with her.

The days passed quickly. The dream-eater stayed. He claimed to need little sustenance – just one delectable dream was enough to satisfy him for quite a long time, and that she was the best source he knew for such food. She didn't mind. If anything, she was flattered, glad to finally be of use to someone.

Every day, she would return from work, and every day, she would come home to lighted hallways and fragrant kitchens. For the first time in her life, Miku learned what it was like to live with someone to return to.

She learned his given name was Len. She was at first embarrassed to use this to address him, but upon his insistence, she adopted the name.

Finally, she had someone to turn around and smile at.

As for Len, he kept his end of the bargain and more. He cooked almost everyday, dishes placed on the table, ready and waiting when she stepped in the door and hung her coat. Other times, she would find him reading a book in an old armchair that she had procured at an antique store because it had reminded her of her father's. He would notice her watching, look up, and smile knowingly. Her neighbors would gossip and tell her about what a nice boy she was living with, a boy who helped them with their heavy things and was always willing to lend a hand, a boy who occasionally went out for a grocery run.

There was the occasional time he would feed on her dreams, but those nights were her happiest for she would remember the past.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, and one day, Len put forth a question that had been squirming in the back of her mind. Those innocent blue eyes looked up into hers one dinner as he got onto his knee and asked, "There's a carnival open nearby this time of year. Would you like come with me?"

She almost choked on her food and made an odd chortling noise as she dislodged it form her throat.

The whole affair was delightfully wonderful. Dreadfully exhilarating, and if there were any more days filled with such excitement, she felt she would die from over-stimulation.

What a rich place a carnival was! It was just as she remembered it, with its fragrance of cotton candy and caramel and sweetness wafting through the lively crowds, each person excited to hop onto the next ride or to exult about the last attraction he'd visited. The cool breeze swept away all traces of the unsavory stench of sweat, inherent in such densely packed locations, and the beautiful glint of individual little light bulbs strung over the edges of tents, booths, and rides, outlining their grand and magnificent form against the sky and contrasting them with the monochrome stars.

And through it all, Len's hand filled hers. His eyes followed her. Their fingers intertwined.

Her heart thumped in her chest. She wondered if Len felt the same way as she about their closeness, but he gave no indication. Like any regular boy, he would drag her to the nearest and the wildest rides until her head spun along with her stomach. Excited, he would tap his feet and bounce in place as he waited in line and he would yell as he went down the roller coaster, holding his hands up high, with hers still clenched in that tight grip.

It was amazing, seeing him so lively, and she felt herself love him all over again.

Yes, she could admit, it wasn't just a childish crush or an all-consuming obsession. It was love and this feeling in her breast flared every time he offered her his food or he showed her something that she might want. The emotions were starting to choke her.

Finally, the day wound down to a close and the lights dimmed to signify the advent of the end. Len was still as high-strung as when they'd started, but upon seeing her so exhausted, he slowed his pace and walked alongside her at a leisurely pace rather than dragging her forward. With everything almost over, he looked up at the last ride and said, "Shall we end with that, my lady?" He pointed up at the enormous Ferris wheel behind him.

It was a grand, gaudy thing, but in Miku's mind, there was nothing more romantic, and so she nodded her consent and the two headed to the booth. Luckily, there was one carriage left, and the two entered – Miku first, with Len holding the door open for her with a flourish.

The ride was slow, and just the perfect wind-down for the day. Miku gasped and wow'd at the sight of the infinite sparkles lighting up the world beneath her. Len looked out the window with something bordering curiosity. She didn't notice him turn his gaze back to her thoughtfully and as such, his voice cutting through the silence enveloping them surprised her.

"Would you like to see something more beautiful?"

Before she knew what to answer, she was lifted off her legs, as though sitting on a cushion of air. Up, and up, and through the sky door that clicked open without a single touch. The only contact was Len's hands on her hands, like he was regally leading a lady down the hall to a ball. Another hand tapped the side of her chin after they'd stopped moving.

"You can open your eyes now."

Hesitatingly, and excruciatingly slowly, she did, only to have them flung open at the next moment.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Indeed it was. It was as though she were standing on top of the universe, looking down at the stars. The miniature cars putting their way across the veins of the city could be shooting stars and the cluster of lights below her feet could be a faraway galaxy.

But then she noticed that the spirit wasn't looking down. He was looking up, and up she did too, eliciting another gasp.

For as long as she'd known, the stars were dim, dull things outshone by streetlamps and building lights. Never before had she known the chandelier of glimmering jewels above her to existed.

"Don't you think it is as though we were standing in the center of the universe, a galaxy above, and a galaxy below?"

In a daze, she nodded, and she stole a glance back at the spirit and found herself caught within his blue eyes, a blue she'd never seen anywhere else before.

That was the second time she had her lips stolen in her life.

Back at home, she lay in bed, thoughts about their halfway relationship filling her head. With a nod, she set her resolution.

She had never seen him interact with anyone else, but it was just as enrapturing as experiencing it herself. Her mother told her what a wonderful man she'd found and was impressed with his hand in the culinary arts, while her father, a man only grown more grumpy with more years, shook his hand with a crisp shake and, after a long stare, declared him the best man possible for "her little girl." She blushed. It had been so long since she'd heard that term of endearment.

Dinner was proceeding splendidly between the three of them when Len stood and knelt to the floor before the emerald-haired lady. Before the eyes of her parents, he brought her fingers to his lips and breathed a soft kiss. Quietly, and staring straight into her eyes, he said,

"You caught my eyes ever since you were a little girl, with dreams the like of which I'd never seen before. And now, you've taught me what it is like to be human. Your love for me … it's taught me what true emotion is, the likes of which I've never encountered before, and it's made me quite attracted to you. Your parents are quite keen on you finding a spouse, and I agree you are indeed at the age where you should share your life with someone. The question, then, is whether you would like to share your life with me."

Miku couldn't even manage a gasp and her eyes snapped over to her parents, who were looking expectantly on her. It was true they had been quite impatient with her, but it was a bit odd they were so eager. This shadow of a doubt was whisked away when she looked back at her love.

There was no doubt as to her answer.

The wedding day was white and sea foam green, complimentary to her treasured locks. Len was dressed in an outfit similar to what he'd worn when she had first met him – a three piece of yellow, white, and black. The cane was missing but the hat was there, and she felt her hat flutter. He was very amiable, gregarious to her relatives and polite to the ladies, but always his eyes would return to her and she found herself proud of herself for being able to elicit such attention.

Everything went smoothly, and the night was long.

Life was good, life was happy. She lost track of time. Years felt like days, and hours felt like weeks.

Before long, she was clothed in wrinkles and head covered in a curtain of ashy white. She couldn't help but see herself in her granddaughters as they scampered around her feet. Rambunctious little creatures they were, and she laughed as they tickled her toes and dodged around her in an attempt of hide-and-seek. She thought they were the most beautiful children she had ever known; the only exception was that blond spirit who had visited her long ago.

Who was now her husband, still in human guise, aging as though he were one of them. Their children showed no supernatural powers, and so the secret of his true form he would take to his so-called grave, and she to hers. Len aged beautifully, and stood with refined and regal poise despite looking just as worn as she did, as though his features were chiseled by a fine pick in the hands of a loving mason.

"It is late, my love," he said as he curled a hand around her shoulder. She leaned into the caress. "It's time to sleep."

But she didn't want to get up, despite Len's urging. The coach was quite comfy, thank you very much, and she was feeling really sleepy.

She'd lived a long, long life, surrounded by those she loved. There wasn't much more she could ask for.

And she was oh so very tired.

She could hear Len's voice calling her name, but it was too faint. She felt herself drifting off, surrounded by the _pitter patter_ of footsteps and the laughter of her granddaughters and the warmth of her love.

She couldn't be any happier.

* * *

><p>His lips finally left hers, the last tendrils of her long, long dream disappearing into his mouth. He gazed down with his sapphire eyes at her prone figure, small frown on his face. Despite his bland expression, his long ears twitched in pleasure at such a delectable meal. It's been such a long time since he's had something so sweet, so luscious that wasn't tainted by the dark shadows of nightmare or the pungent decay of sin.<p>

So long, that he'd forgotten what such emotions tasted like.

He glanced up. The moon was already waxing again. She'd been missing for a day. He needed to leave – though he was a spirit, he was hardly incorporeal, especially after a feeding. Her dream was coming to a close, finally.

Below him, Miku lay, young as the day she'd given her first kiss to the dream-eating spirit, her eyes closed, her hands clasped. He peered down at her with nary an emotion flitting across his face.

"Are you full, my sweet? Is your heart satisfied?" he questioned her, but he didn't expect an answer. The words came perfunctorily.

He had been called, had felt a well of despair growing in a small apartment in the city of eternal night when he came upon her, this girl who said she knew him. However, he was a predator and she was the prey, and he'd been hungry.

Dreams were in such dearth, and he wanted more than just children's nightmares. Nightmares made him hungry for more. It was easier to harvest his feasts himself.

And what a feast it was, delicious to the very last drop.

He doesn't hesitate to admit to himself that he had urged her on. The moment the sweetness had registered in his empty soul, he wanted more and more. More.

More … to the point that he might have started intruding upon her very soul as well.

She twitched, her face screwing up in a restless fit. She had stayed so still the whole time. Now, though, without his contact and insistence, he sensed her dreams plunging into darkness – not of nightmare, but that of a void – and rested a hand on her cheek. "What an unseemly face. My dear, you asked for this, you know. Dreams are endless, a bottomless paradise you can never escape once you've had a taste. You enjoyed enough for a lifetime, and now I name my price.

"I shall take those bright-eyed dreams of yours – past, present, and future. I'm sorry, but this is just how it is." He patted her on the cheek and she slipped into a stillness that was quite unnatural.

"It is a shame, but your dream really was delicious, one of the best I've had. But this is the price for drowning in dreams. Really, what a shame…"

Clicking his tongue and shaking his head, the dream-eater walked out towards the balcony and, without a single glance backwards, strode onto the railing and over and ascended, step by step, towards the full moon, leaving only the empty shell of a girl behind.

* * *

><p>Note: This isn't the last chapter to the fic! There'll be one more chapter left :)<p>

About what, you ask? Not telling :D


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